


Anderson's Theory

by moonstone1520



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anderson has a theory, Anderson ships it, Drabble, Drunkenness, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, He wasn't exactly wrong, SO MUCH FLUFF, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, all of the fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7970839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstone1520/pseuds/moonstone1520
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anderson has a theory about what happened when Sherlock fell. He's not exactly wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anderson's Theory

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I Told You So](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1890786) by [Writingwife83](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingwife83/pseuds/Writingwife83). 



> Just a little drabble I threw together. This little scene would not leave my head.
> 
> Originally posted on Tumblr
> 
> [here](http://moonstone1520.tumblr.com/post/150014169973/andersons-theory)

“And you said that Sherlock planted a—what was it? A passionate kiss on Molly!” Sally crowed. John sputtered and choked on his drink, causing Lestrade to pound on his back in the midst of his amusement at the remark. Anderson flushed and giggled, his beer sloshing over his pint glass as he gestured with it, his cheeks red with the effects of his drinking.

“All right, I may have been a bit wrong on that front,” he slurred, joining in the raucous laughter that had erupted at Sally’s exclamation.  

“That’s the best one of your theories yet, Anderson!” Lestrade exclaimed, raising his glass to the toasted tech. “To Anderson’s theories, may they get grander and more elaborate—”

“And romatic!” John drunkenly interrupted, raising his own pint glass in a show of solidarity.

“And more romantic,” Lestrade hiccupped in agreement. “More grand, more elaborate, and more romantic the more he—and we—drink!” Cries of “here here!” were shouted, glasses raised and clinked, and more rounds ordered.

Through it all, Sherlock and Molly stood next to each other and slightly apart from the drunken mass. Flushed with excitement, Molly caught the detective’s glittering eyes and smirked—a sly grin he returned in kind as they covertly clasped gloved hands and squeezed, pleased that Anderson's story of their passionate embrace was still "just a theory."


End file.
